


The Incarnate Angel

by Rainbow_Foxes



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art Modeling, Artist Kyle Rayner, Body Worship, Crying, Crying During Sex, Eye Contact, Eye Sex, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Nude Modeling, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Rimming, artistic liberties taken with the artistic process, model Jason Todd, service top kyle rayner, that was an accident on my part but here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Foxes/pseuds/Rainbow_Foxes
Summary: For Bottom Jay Week 2020 Day 3: Going undercover as a model works too well.Kyle wasn't expecting to see Jason Todd of all people in the studio as a figure drawing model.He can't say it's an unwelcome surprise.
Relationships: Kyle Rayner/Jason Todd
Comments: 22
Kudos: 265
Collections: Bottom Jason Todd Week 2020





	The Incarnate Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaptainLordAuditor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLordAuditor/gifts).



> aka 4,000 + words of Kyle being an art hoe, and then another 4,000 + of him being a service top.  
> Title taken from a painting by Leonardo Da-Vinci of the same name.  
> For Miles, who out of all the ideas I had for this event week, asked me to do this one.

Kyle is sure that the universe is laughing at him. There is no other reason why  _ Jason Todd _ of all people is standing in the shared studio space, talking with Mandy the coordinator and wearing nothing but a robe. He and Donna had spent months looking for the man following their jaunt through the multiverse with no luck, and now he’s standing not 15 feet away, wrapped up in a thin burgundy robe like a present. The tie is even done in a bow.

He’d definitely not been expecting this when he pitched in to pay for a model. He expected some normal, average person he could use to practice anatomy — most likely one of the regulars that the studio likes to employ. He could have sworn the plan was to get Chris, who he’s worked with before. And yet Chris was not here, and Jason was.

Kyle eyed the man warily as he moved more fully into the room, giving an absent hello to the other artists already there. He would love to outright ask what he was doing here, but that would be stupid. What reason does Kyle have to know Jason, assuming Jason even gave his real name? It’d make him look like an ass and bring about way too many questions. He’ll have to get Jason alone to get his answers.

That in mind, he goes to his preferred spot — just slightly angled away from the large floor-to-ceiling windows that make up an entire wall of the studio — and starts setting up. He  _ paid _ for this time, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t use it. He pulls over an easel, stool, and table, and adjusts everything to his liking. As he’s fishing his charcoals out of his kit, he can’t help but look up. 

He catches Jason’s eye in that moment, and his emotions are clear on his face. Recognition first, then it bleeds into confusion that scrunches up his brow and opens again with realization, followed by embarrassment creeping up his cheeks in a blush before retreating into irritation that Kyle hopes is mild, given the twist of his lips. Kyle gives a tight lipped smile that he hopes says  _ “I’m not happy about it either, but I won’t cause problems if you don’t.” _ The message gets across, if the raised eyebrow and slight shrug of the shoulders he gets in return is anything to go by. Kyle releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Okay, he can deal with this.

He finishes setting up: getting his charcoals out and ready to go with his chamois cloth in easy reach and his blade somewhere he won’t knock it over; preparing paper blenders he knows he’ll forgo in favor of using his fingers, and his board and paper up on the easel. He settles into some quick sketches - rings and starbursts and easy patterns - to warm up. The simple, repetitive motions relax and loosen him up. 

He’s got this, it’s going to be fine.

“Alright guys, you about ready?” Mandy’s voice draws his attention to the center of the rough circle the artists have set up around the chaise they use as a dais and for reclined and sitting poses. Jason is standing next to her, looking around the room with bored eyes. Everyone provides some sign of being ready, and she claps her hands with a smile. 

“Excellent! Chris couldn’t join us today,” — He knew it was supposed to be Chris! — “So we have Peter helping us out.” She gestures to Jason, who gives a two-fingered salute as a wave, lazy as can be. “We’ll do some quick poses to warm up and then longer ones, like usual. Whenever you’re ready Peter.” With that Mandy steps out of the circle.

Jason turns his back to Kyle and steps onto the chaise, dropping his robe in the process. He laces his fingers together and raises his arms high above his head in a stretch that he leans into. All around him the others start putting what they see to paper, and Kyle joins them.

He can’t take his eyes off Jason. The perfect line of movement from his hands down to his feet, the broadness of his shoulders, the way the muscle shifts under his bronze skin. Kyle is mesmerized and it feels like his hand is moving on his own, documenting the moment before Jason shifts into another pose. He turns to the side and raises one of his legs, grabbing the ankle with the opposite hand. Kyle focuses on the arm, the flex of tendons and the twist of the radius and ulna as they turn behind Jason’s back.

The quick poses continue like this, and Kyle realizes something that has him biting back a laugh: Jason is doing his stretch routine. He’s seen it before, when they were traveling together. Jason would do it right after waking up and run through portions of it before a fight if he could. Jason must have caught his laugh, because as he shifted from his butterfly stretch he gave Kyle a  _ look _ that told him to watch himself.

As the warm-up period ended, Jason switched to less active but no less dynamic poses. Down on one knee and head held high like a man being knighted. Laid out on the chaise on his stomach, head cushioned on his folded arms and legs bent at the knee and crossed at the ankle. Standing as if he had heard his name called behind him, paused in motion and head and torso turned ever so slightly to see the speaker. 

Kyle captures them all, committing the images seared into his mind to paper and charcoal. He feels voyeuristic in a way he never has with figure models before. That, he supposes, is because he’s never known his models like he knows Jason. He’s never seen them bleed and scream and cry, never fought beside them or argued endlessly with them. It makes him want to see Jason like this elsewhere, in his bedroom or living room where they can laugh and bicker and he can ask about the scars on his fingertips and the tattoos he’s only caught glimpses of.

Mandy calls for a break, and Kyle pulls back from his easel with a sigh and a stretch before idly rubbing his hands over his face. A laugh startles him and he looks around his easel to see Jason with his robe back on but tied loosely, somehow still managing to cover the bulk of the tattoos that have been teasing Kyle for the past 45 minutes. Only one is clear to him now, settled right across his throat: a green, gold, and red feather with a flock of tiny birds in the same colors erupting from the tip and black ink dripping from the quill. It’s delicate in the placement and design and Kyle wants to know everything about it.

Jason has a smile on his lips, a genuine one that reaches his blue-green eyes - and God if Kyle couldn’t wax poetic about the color of them - that he’s never seen before. It makes his heart skip a beat.

“You got something, right here.” Jason says, gesturing to his whole face.

“Wha— shit, the charcoal.” his realization makes Jason laugh again, a little chuckle this time, and Kyle is perfectly fine with looking like an idiot if it gets him to do it again.

“You gonna clean that off, or...?”

“Yeah, I’ve got face wipes in my bag. Lemme just—” Kyle digs through his bag for them, not caring about further dirtying the already stained bag. He finds them near the bottom, pulls them out, and proceeds to give his face a quick wipe down. “Better?”

“No, you somehow made it worse. Here, gimme.” Jason takes the wipe from his hand and works it gently over his face. Kyle holds his breath, sure that one wrong movement would wreck whatever  _ this _ is. Jason finishes with one last swipe over his cheekbone, but doesn’t pull back for a moment. Kyle meets his eyes and he can see an unfamiliar fondness there before Jason pulls back.

He clears his throat, “There. You’re still a little grey, but at least you don’t look like you just came out of a coal mine.” He shifts his weight and purses his mouth slightly, like he wants to say something, “I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick.” and then he turns and leaves.

Kyle has a feeling that's not what Jason wanted to say. 

It’s not what Kyle wanted him to say, either.

He sighs and looks at what he’s done so far. If this was another artist’s work, he would guess that the model was their lover. The way he follows the lines of Jason’s body, the attention to the tiniest details, the careful shading of scars. All of it gives away something he’s not quite sure he wants to admit yet. But it’s there, brimming under the surface and working its way to his consciousness with every bit of charcoal he puts to paper.

Jason returns from the bathroom and the break ends. Kyle is determined to be professional, but the first pose Jason choses throws all that out the window.

He’s sitting on the chaise with one leg crossed over the other, supporting his weight on his hands as he tilts his head back, making direct eye contact with Kyle. It steals his breath away, leaving him lightheaded. He puts the charcoal to the paper and recreates what he sees. The long line of Jason’s neck, the sharpness of his jawline, the fullness of his lips, the strength of his arms and shoulders, the bend in his broad nose from one too many breaks. Kyle carefully details the cord of the necklace he hasn’t quite seen the pendant of, and kicks himself for not paying attention to it earlier. He wishes he could capture the slight rise and fall of his stomach as he breathes; the slow, langid way he blinks. The charcoal is perfect for the dark curl of Jason’s hair and the careful shading to make the one streak of white stand out, but not for his eyes. He needs something else.

Kyle digs into his kit quickly, needing to get this down before Jason shifts again. He pulls out his pastels, soft and hard, and gets to work. He lays down the softs first to get the vibrant color, blending them until he gets that perfect shade of blue-green. They’re oxidized copper, his eyes: world-worn and changed, but strong against what’s thrown at them; the color of freedom and resilience and oh-so beautiful. He needs the hard pastels for the details, for the way the afternoon light reflects off his irises, for the soft flutter of his lashes, for the lines that move a piece of art from beautiful to  _ perfect _ .

He sets down the pastel he’s holding with a shaky exhale. He’s half-hard in his jeans and not even surprised by it. Drawing Jason like this is euphoric, an all encompassing act that leaves him electrified and  _ wanting. _ He needs to get himself together.

Kyle gets up and makes his way out of the room, drawing Jason’s eye as he changes poses. He turns and draws his legs up onto the chaise and curls over his strong thighs to rest his cheek on his knees and drape his arms over his shins. It keeps Kyle from seeing his tattoos as he comes around to the other side of the circle. Jason is teasing him, he knows it.

He gets to the bathroom and braces his arms on the counter, meeting his own hazel eyes in the mirror. They’re heavy lidded and hazy with lust, pupils blown wide and a blush dusting his cheekbones. He looks as much of a mess as he feels - new smudges of charcoal dot his face, now accompanied by streaks of blue and green pastels. His hands are in the same state, he knows without even looking. He should clean up so he stops leaving splotches of color everywhere, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to let the charcoal and pigments stain his skin, mark him permanently as a reminder of what he’s done, what he  _ wants _ to do.

“Get a grip, Rayner.” He tells his reflection, running a hand through his hair and  _ fuck _ now the colors have rubbed off onto his black strands and he can’t help but think what it’d be like to touch Jason’s dark curls, to stain them with the colors on his fingers.

He  _ wants, _ and he’s got a hunch Jason does too. But here and now isn’t the time for it. It’s unprofessional, inappropriate, and holy hell does he not want to pop a boner in front of the others.

“Okay, game plan. You’re going to calm the fuck down, then you’re going to go in there and finish out the session  _ without _ being a horndog, and then you’re going to ask Jason back to your place so he can choke you out with his thighs. But worded better than that. You got this Kyle, you’re a God-damned Green Lantern, you’ve got this.” His reflection doesn’t provide a response, but then again it never does. 

Kyle stays in the bathroom long enough to get his dick to go down. He stalls on returning to the studio by getting a water bottle from the vending machine, but that’s all he can make himself do. He walks back into the studio just in time to see Jason shrugging back on his robe. Was he really in there long enough that they’re onto another break?

“You okay? You were gone for a while.” Apparently the answer is yes. He turns his attention to who asked, and it’s Cynthia, one of the other artists.

“Uh yeah, just had to take a phone call, get some water.” He holds up his bottle as proof, trying to sell the partial lie. He quickly changes the subject “Do you mind if I take a look at what you’re working on?”

Cynthia agrees and pulls him over to her work station. Kyle tries to pretend he doesn’t feel eyes following him, but it's hard. Instead of looking up like he so wants to, he looks down at Cynthia’s easel.

_ Oh this does  _ not _ help at all. _

Cynthia’s paper is covered in penises. Erect, flaccid, big, small- penises of all shapes and sizes. Different angles, different lighting, just. A lot of penises.

“So, anatomy study?” What else is he supposed to say?

“Oh only on this sheet, it helps to have one in front of you to get an idea of how it moves, you know? What I’m really working on is this.” Cynthia provides another sheet of paper, and it’s somehow both better and worse than the previous one.

It’s SuperBats smut, plain and simple. And really well done, once Kyle gets past the fact that he knows the people in it and that one of their children is in the room. The lines are clean, the anatomy is good, and the figures have a good weight to them. He tells her as much as he hands it back to her.

They chat for a bit longer and Kyle calms himself. He’s not being too weird, he thinks, if Cynthia feels comfortable drawing this here. He takes a quick glance at other easels as he walks back over to his own set up, chats with the artists if they’re there, and relaxes further. Everyone is doing their own thing, no one has noticed his little crisis. It’s fine.

He’s got this.

Kyle sits at his station and stretches his hands and wrists out, trying to keep them loose. He closes his eyes and rolls his neck and shoulders, working out the tension he’s picked up. He hears everyone get back to their seats, Jason approaching the chaise and stepping on, and then the soft thump of his robe hitting the ground. Kyle opens his eyes then, pulls his gaze to the center of the circle, and chokes on air.

He doesn’t got this.

Jason is standing there, fully bared to Kyle for the first time all day, stance relaxed with one arm arm down by his side, one hand grasping the back of his neck and head turned slightly to gaze out the windows. Kyle can see every inch of him from his dark curls down to his toes, and Kyle  _ wants _ .

He wants to count the freckles across his cheeks and shoulders. He wants to scrape his nails over Jason’s pecs and stomach, feel the strong muscles under the layer of protective fat. He wants to lick the tattoo he finally gets to see, to trace the blooming flowers and follow the red swirling patterns between them with his tongue from Jason’s collarbone down to his navel. He wants to kiss up the inside of those strong legs, to feel them quiver and shake in his hold. He wants to ghost his breath over Jason’s cock, watch it grow fat and heavy in his hand and bounce between them as Kyle thrusts into him.

Kyle wants, but he can’t have; not yet. And so he draws.

The form first, of course. The broadness of Jason’s shoulders, the strength of his core, the length of his legs and the thickness of his thighs. Kyle takes them in hungrily and puts them to paper with the fervor of a starving man. Then he brings it to life. 

Shading to give it Jason’s weight and power. Dark clouds to start with for his hair and pubic area, to be defined later. Defining the shape of his pectorals and the softness of his stomach. Pulling out the shape of the tendons in his arms and then going in to lovingly detail his hands. The eyes can be dark this time, darting off to the side and sparing Kyle the intensity of their color. He spends too much time on the curve of Jason’s lips, but he doesn’t care. He cleans up the hair, defining the white streak among the curls, and adds in the cord of his necklace, the pendant he can finally see being a looped stalk of some kind of white flower.

Jason’s cock and balls are beautiful in every way they can be. His dick is uncut and large even when soft, hanging so nicely in front of his scrotum. Heat coils in Kyle’s gut as he smudges out the shape of it on the paper, imagining the feel of it in his hands and the weight on his tongue.

Finally,  _ finally _ he can do the tattoos that have been taunting him all day. He needs to pull out the pastel pencils for the one on his neck, the detailing of the feather so small and vibrant that it requires them. He carefully draws in each little bird, red and green and gold, and adds the smallest bit of charcoal to get the ink black as can be.

Back to the soft pastels for the swirling, thorn-like patterns mixed between the flowers of the y-shaped tattoo that covers his chest and abdomen. The color is that of only slightly dried blood: just starting to darken to that rust brown color but still having the vibrancy of a fresh wound. Hard pastels and the pencils again for the flowers, so delicate and detailed. He doesn’t know the names of them, but he wants to. Wants to know why Jason chose the spidery white blossoms and why he wears one on a cord; what the blue and pink stars mean; why he chose trumpeting rainbows and tiny white bells and thickly veined purple petals.

He adds the last of the details, the bits of black that he didn’t want to smudge out and the parts that needed to be cleaned up. And it’s done. It’s done and it’s beautiful but it doesn’t compare to the real thing standing in front of him.

Kyle lets out a breath and looks at his hands. They’re trembling and covered in pigments, and he thinks about smearing those colors onto Jason’s warm skin — turning stretch marks into twisting vines and scars into lightning strikes and adding new flowers to the garden on his chest. He flexes his hands, curling the fingers in and out in an attempt to relieve the tension and get them to stop shaking. 

He spares a look at Jason, who had moved while he was finishing up the details. Now he’s fully stretched out on the chaise, lounging on his side, giving Kyle the full heat and intensity of his eyes. Jason clearly knows how much he’s worked Kyle up simply by  _ being _ ; it shows in every line of his body. The tilt of his hips, the lazy drape of his arm over his waist; it’s an invitation if Kyle ever saw one.

Kyle meets Jason’s eyes fully, sending an invitation of his own that is accepted by the smallest quirk of the corner of the man’s lips. Anticipation settles under his skin. Now all he has to do is wait.

It is thankfully not too long until Mandy calls time. Jason rises from his lounged position with a stretch and puts back on his robe. Kyle follows his every movement as he collects a bag from the other side of the room and leaves to get dressed. He goes about getting his own things packed, eyes drifting up to the door against his will every few seconds. It’s not worry, but eagerness. He is so close to having Jason in his arms, he can already feel the firm shape of his hips in his palms.

Jason returns fully dressed in his usual attire. The jeans hug his thighs and the leather jacket makes his shoulders look even broader, if that’s possible. He takes his time making his way over to Kyle, stopping to talk with Mandy first, and then to take a look at what some of the others have made. He can tell when Cynthia shows him her SuperBats work — the blush creeps up his neck and over his cheeks, and Kyle wonders how far down it extends.

Finally, Jason makes it over to him. Most everyone else is gone, save for Mandy far to the front finishing some paperwork.

“Rayner,” Jason begins, “Didn’t know you would be here.” Kyle snorts.

“The same can be said to you. You’re not normally in L.A.” He gets a shrug in response.

“I go where my work takes me, you know that.” So a case brought him here? What could be going on in a co-op art studio that requires the Red Hood’s attention, of all people?

“Care to share, then?” Jason smirks, a mean little thing that Kyle wants to kiss away.

“Nah, don’t think I will. It’s too fun to watch you squirm.”

“So you like to be a tease? Never pegged you for it.”

“You weren’t complaining earlier. I think you like it when I tease.” Kyle closes the gap between them, not quite touching but close enough to smell Jason’s cologne. He takes in how Jason’s pupils dilate with the movement and lets a smirk of his own — one much more suggestive than Jason’s — cross his lips.

“Not when I can’t do anything about it.” Heat flashes in Jason’s eyes.

“Oh? You think I'd let you?” It’s a leading question, he knows. Jason can never make things easy.

“I think that if you didn’t want me to, you wouldn’t let me this close.” Jason’s hand shifts forward, tapping his fingers on Kyle’s hip but not holding him. The small touches leave him electrified. 

Jason hums something like an affirmative and shifts his weight enough that the front of his body just barely brushes up against Kyle’s. He can feel the hardness there, and he’s sure that Jason feels his own.

He’s asking in his own way, but it’s not enough for Kyle. He needs to hear it spoken, get a confirmation that it’s not all in his head. And if Jason won’t use his words, Kyle will.

“You want to come back to my place? Let me show you what I’ve been thinking about all day?”

Jason smiles, slow and lazy and devastatingly sexy. “My bike’s downstairs.”

* * *

The ride over to Kyle’s studio apartment is short but it feels like an eternity. He’s pressed up against Jason’s back, his cock pressing insistently against his jeans and the cleft of Jason’s ass. He’s as close as can be, mouth to Jason’s ear for his directions to be heard over the sounds of traffic and hands pressed to the soft plane of Jason’s bare stomach under the pretext of keeping the pastels from staining his shirt.

They will stain anyways, but neither care.

In his eagerness, Kyle almost forgets his things in Jason’s saddle bags.  _ Does _ forget them, really, but Jason grabs them and passes him his bag while he carries the bulkier kit and art board. He’s bringing home a gentleman, it seems.

Kyle takes advantage of Jason’s full hands in the elevator, sliding his hands back under his shirt and around his waist as he sucks a hickey into the side of the taller man’s neck. Jason groans and leans into it, but doesn’t drop his burdens despite Kyle hearing the slight creak of him flexing his fingers around the handle of the kit.

Kyle pulls away just as the elevator reaches his floor, leaving a dark red mark on Jason’s neck. He leads Jason to his front door with a grin and lets them both in. He tosses his bag to the side before the door even closes. He takes the kit from Jason and much more carefully sets it down on the coffee table, and Jason sets the art board to lean against the couch.

Neither of them hesitate, moving towards each other to meet in the middle. The first kiss is electric, sending a shock-wave of tingles down his spine and making his toes curl in his shoes. Kyle runs one hand up Jason’s stomach and chest, leaving a wave of color on the otherwise white shirt, and curls it into the hairs at the base of his skull. The other slides down to slip into Jason’s back pocket, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer.

Jason moans at the contact, low and rolling. He grips Kyle’s hips, grinding their erections together through their clothes for delicious friction. Kyle sweeps his tongue over the seam of Jason’s mouth, delighting in how easily he opens for him. He takes his time mapping Jason’s mouth with his tongue and welcoming Jason to do the same.

With a tug on his hair, Kyle pulls Jason away from his mouth so he can pepper kisses down his jawline. Jason pants and rolls his hips, peering at him with heavy lidded eyes.

“Now who’s teasing?” He says. Kyle hums into his skin in response, enjoying how Jason shudders at the vibration.

“Not teasing, learning. I’m going to kiss every inch of you and make you fall apart Jay.” Jason’s breath catches, Kyle can feel it as he kisses down the column of his neck.

“Yeah?” his voice is breathy and needy, and Kyle grins against his pulsepoint. 

“You like that, huh? Want me to take care of you? Take you apart and put you back together?” He punctuates his remark by biting into the flesh of Jason’s neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not to break the skin. Jason bucks against him with a whine.

He pulls back just enough to push Jason’s jacket off his shoulders and to the floor. Jason takes it a step further and removes his shirt and Kyle does the same. He wastes no time in putting his hands on Jason again, feeling the ripple of his muscles as he shudders under his touch. He traces the shape of Jason’s chest tattoo with his fingertips, leaving his own smudges of color from his shoulders down to his navel. The texture is fascinating: the flowers feel just like any other tattoo he’s felt — slightly raised and rougher than untouched skin — but the blood red thorns between them are smooth like the ink isn’t even there, and under them both is the hardness of heavy scarring.

He follows the path of his fingertips with his lips, making a detour to each of Jason’s nipples to lick and suck and nibble until they’re puffy and red. He whispers praise into the skin between kisses —

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,”

— until Jason is a shaking, quivering mess, and then he does it some more. Kyle only stops when Jason cups his face in both hands and brings him up for a searing kiss. When they separate, Kyle can see that Jason’s eyes are red and tear tracks on his cheeks. He takes Jason’s face into his own hands and wipes the tears away with his thumbs.

“What’s wrong Jason? We can stop, it’s ok—” Jason turns his head slightly to press a kiss into his palm.

“I’m good, it’s just — it’s just a lot.”

“We can slow down? I want this to be good for you Jay.”

Jason takes a hold of Kyle’s hand and presses kisses to his fingers, starting from the knuckles and working his way to the tips. 

“It  _ is _ good, I promise. Take me to bed Kyle.”

Kyle looks at Jason, searching for any sign of hesitation, and sign of a lie. He finds none and switches the grip on their hands, bringing Jason’s to his lips for a kiss.

“Okay.”

And then he’s guiding them to his bed, hidden from the rest of the apartment by high-hung curtains. He parts the curtains and gently pushes Jason to lie down on the bed. Kyle kneels at his feet and unties his boots, pressing a kiss to each ankle as he rolls the socks off. While he’s at it, he removes his own shoes and socks. When he pops back up Jason has his belt unbuckled and his fly open, stroking his dick through his underwear and watching him. Kyle crawls up the bed and takes Jason’s mouth with his own. He reaches down and bats Jason’s hand away so he can slip his own hand in the man’s underwear and grip his cock. Jason gasps into his mouth and arches into the touch, moving his hands to grip at Kyle’s back.

Kyle strokes Jason’s cock with a slow but steady rhythm, adding in experimental twists of the wrist to learn his reactions. Jason is so sensitive, so  _ expressive _ , Kyle wants to learn every sound he makes. A swipe of his thumb over the head spreads precum and makes Jason beg.

“Kyle please, please I want —” He cuts himself off with a whine. Kyle grins.

“What do you want, Beautiful?” Jason’s breath hitches at the term of endearment and Kyle presses a kiss to his neck. “Use your words, Jay. I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me.” Kyle continues to jerk Jason off with even strokes, even as he desperately grinds his own erection against one of the man’s godly thighs.

Jason moans at the contact and finally gives Kyle the answer he’s been waiting for “Want you to fuck me Kyle.”

Kyle groans and begins to lick and nip his way down Jason’s torso. “I can do that Beautiful. You want anything else? Want me to suck you off while I open you up on my fingers? Or do you want me to lick you open?”

Jason whines again and bucks into his hand. “Yes! Want your mouth, Kyle, want your mouth and your fingers. Please,  _ please. _ ” Kyle presses a kiss into his stomach and gives his cock one last squeeze before taking his hand out of his underwear. Jason nearly sobs at the loss and Kyle can’t hold back a small chuckle.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you,” He presses kisses down below Jason’s navel, keeping his eyes locked on Jason’s “such good care of you. Gonna make you fall apart, Jay.” 

He mouths over Jason’s covered cock, making the man arch into his mouth. Kyle hums around his cock and Jason  _ shakes. _ He pulls off Jason’s cock with a grin and tucks his fingers under the waistband of his underwear. Kyle pulls them off, taking Jason’s jeans along as he tugs the clothes off his legs.

Jason is bare before him again, but it’s even more electric than before. He’s panting and hard and looking at Kyle with those impossible blue-green eyes blown wide with lust. It’s the most beautiful thing Kyle has ever seen and his fingers itch to put the image to paper — to immortalize it over and over again in ink and paint and clay and stone.

Kyle drops his own pants and underwear with significantly less care than he had removed Jason’s. He’s still kicking them off his feet as he grabs one of Jason’s legs and presses a kiss into the ankle. He is achingly hard, but he still takes his time kissing up the inside of the man’s legs, singing his praises as he works his way up.

“So beautiful, Jason. So, so beautiful. Couldn’t take my eyes off of you all day. Been thinking about you like this since I saw you.” He sucks a hickey into Jason’s thigh, worrying the flesh between his teeth. Jason moans and rolls his hips, tears springing to his eyes at the words. Kyle presses a kiss into the mark, soothing it with his tongue.

“Is it what I’m saying, Jay? Does being told how gorgeous you are make you cry?” 

Jason nods his head in response. Kyle hums and kisses his way up over Jason’s hip, paying special attention to a scar right at the joint.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Jason shakes his head quickly “No! I like it. Please Kyle, I’m sorry if its a problem, but —”

“No buts, Beautiful,” Kyle interrupts him, “I like telling you how good you are.” Jason’s hips buck on  _ good, _ and Kyle grins. So that’s what it is. “Such a gorgeous,  _ good _ , man.” Jason keens and Kyle knows he’s got his number. 

Kyle licks a stripe straight up Jason’s cock and delights in how it jumps at the touch. He runs his fingers down from the base, stopping to play with Jason’s sac for a moment before tapping gently on his perineum until he finds the one spot that makes Jason arch up off the bed with a moan.

“There we go, being so good for me. There’s lube in the nightstand, can you get it?” Kyle waits for Jason to give him an affirmative before taking the head of his cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip. He hears Jason fumble and cuss at that and hums to hide his laughter.

Jason arches further into his mouth at that, “Fuck, Kyle!”

Kyle looks up at him from beneath his lashes and flicks the tip of his tongue into the slit of Jason’s cock, tapping at his perineum at the same time. Jason’s eyes roll into the back of his head as his eyelids flutter, and he flops back onto the bed. 

Kyle pulls off of his cock with a pop, and begins to press kisses along the shaft. “The lube, Beautiful. Need to open you up.” He reminds, and Jason gives him a half hearted glare.

Kyle hums against Jason’s shaft and dutifully ignores the man’s grumpy mumbling as he works his mouth down to tongue at his sac. Jason cusses again and moves into the touch. He hears more fumbling in his nightstand before Jason’ finally finds the lube. Kyle decides to reward him by sucking one of his balls into his mouth.

“Jesus fuck Kyle, you’re going to kill me again.” Jason pants out. Kyle pulls off and gives him a wink. In retaliation, Jason throws the lube at him instead of handing it to him.

Kyle catches it. “Thank you Jay. You did so good finding this for me, I didn’t make it easy for you.” Jason goes pink and tugs at his own hair.

“You’re nightstand is a fucking mess.” He grumbles and Kyle laughs. He’s so cute when he’s embarrassed.

Jason is about to say more, but Kyle takes the opportunity to mouth at the spot on Jason’s perineum that’s been driving the man crazy. Jason chokes on his response and his legs fall open like an invitation. Kyle rearranges himself so he’s lying flat on his stomach, pressing his cock into the mattress for some much needed friction. He pulls Jason’s legs up over his shoulders and licks back up to take one of his balls into his mouth, swirling his tongue gently around the weight of it.

Jason’s legs shake around Kyle’s head. Kyle rubs his palms over Jason’s thighs as he releases one of his balls to take the other into his mouth and give it the same treatment until Jason is calling his name.

“Kyle, Kyle please stop teasing. I want more, please.” He’s whining and squirming and Kyle is going to give him what he wants.

“Of course Jay, you’re being so good for me. Wonderful man, I’m gonna lick you open first, then use my fingers. You want that? You want my tongue in your ass?”

“Yes, yes  _ please _ Kyle. Want you to open me up, want you to fuck me.”

Kyle wastes no time, licking right down to Jason’s hole. He swirls his tongue around the rim, making the muscle relax. He keeps rubbing circles over Jason’s thighs with his hands as the shaking gets worse. Kyle could do this for  _ hours _ — keep Jason shaking and whining and panting under his tongue; take in every drop of salty sweat on his skin and the musky smell that has Kyle humping the mattress in time with the loops of his tongue over Jason’s ass.

Once he feels that the ring of muscle is relaxed enough, Kyle curls his tongue and pokes it through, causing Jason’s thighs to clamp down around his head. Kyle bucks hard into the mattress, this is what he’s been fantasizing about all day. Jason grabs his hair and tugs Kyle in closer, humping against his tongue as Kyle works it in and out of his ass.

“Fuck! More! God please, want your fingers!” Jason is nearly screaming and it makes Kyle’s cock throb. He pulls his tongue out and parts with one last lick over the hole. He has to pry Jason’s thighs from around him, though he’d gladly let the man choke him out if that’s what he wanted. Kyle palms his dick as he stares at Jason: debauched and needy and all  _ his _ .

Kyle picks up the lube from where he let it fall and warms the bottle quickly between his hands before doling out a generous dollop onto one. He works it over his fingers for an even spread and looks Jason in the eye.

“You ready? You gonna be good and stretch pretty on my fingers?” 

“Yes, Kyle, gonna be so good for you.” Jason moans and spreads his legs wide. Kyle presses a kiss to Jason’s hip and presses a finger into Jason’s ass. It slides in easily, the muscle relaxed from Kyle’s tongue. He works it in and out at a steady pace, enjoying how Jason squirms and tries to get more. He goes to suck on Jason’s cock, give him a teasing blow job while he works the man open, but Jason pulls him up for a kiss instead.

Kyle’s rhythm stutters for a moment as he readjusts the angle of his hand, but he’s soon adding another finger. He works them in and out before scissoring them, making Jason moan into their kiss.

Jason takes a hold of Kyle’s neglected cock, giving it long, firm strokes in time with Kyle’s fingers in his ass. It’s Kyle’s turn to moan, and Jason nudges his head up with his own so he can nip and suck at Kyle’s neck. When he speaks, Kyle can barely get his voice above a whisper.

“So good for me, Beautiful. So,  _ so _ good. You’re opening up for me so nicely Jason. I can’t wait to get in you. You ready for another finger? I bet I can make you cum on them, then make you come again on my cock. How’s that sound?” 

Jason moans against his neck “Next time. Just want your cock now.” Kyle bucks into his hand. Next time? He hadn’t thought he’d get lucky enough for a next time, thought he’d only get this one moment and was determined to make it last.

“Next time, I’m going to see how many times I can make you cum. Keep you in my bed all day, show you how fucking beautiful and good you are. Lay you out and paint you, make you see just how amazing you are.” He peppers kisses over Jason’s head and he can feel fresh tears against his skin as Jason shudders.

“So good, Jason, so good. Wonderful, wonderful man.” Kyle whispers as he pushes a third finger into Jason. He arches into the intrusion and pulls away from Kyle’s neck to sob out a moan. He rocks against Kyle’s fingers, fucking himself on them and letting out little sobs as Kyle stretches them. Kyle leans up and kisses his tears away.

Jason slants his mouth over Kyle’s, a wet needy kiss that has Kyle sighing and chasing after him with little nips to his bottom lip. Jason pulls back with a shaky laugh and pushes Kyle’s hair off his forehead.

“Lemme suck you?” Kyle bucks into his hand with a moan.

“Yes, fuck yes, show me how good your mouth is, Beautiful.” He slips his fingers out of Jason’s ass as Jason pushes him onto his back. Jason kisses his way down Kyle’s body, biting in places that Kyle has kissed on his own. When he reaches Kyle’s cock he blows softly on it, taking it in his hand and licking his lips. 

He leans in and presses a kiss to the head before running kisses down the side of the shaft. He licks a long stripe up the bottom, tonguing at the sensitive spot just under the head to make Kyle shudder. Kyle moans when Jason takes his cock into his mouth, going deep and hollowing his cheeks. Jason works him over, wrapping his tongue around the shaft and head as he bobs up and down and fondling his sac with one hand.

It’s all too much for Kyle. He pulls Jason off his cock and into a kiss, wrapping his other hand around the base of his dick and sac to keep himself from cumming. 

“Amazing, so fucking amazing Jason, I swear,” Kyle lays kisses all over Jason’s face, enjoying how he blushes under him. “Lay down Beautiful. I’m going to make you feel so good.” 

He guides Jason onto his back, then reaches over into his nightstand to find a condom. He rolls it on and pulls Jason’s legs up around his hips. “Ready?” Jason nods, and Kyle guides himself in.

Jason arches against him as his cock bottoms out, “Kyle, fuck! Oh my God!” He calls out. Kyle leans down to kiss him, bracing himself with one hand on Jason’s hip. The other slides up until it tangles with Jason’s.

Kyle wants to go slow, wants to tear Jason apart and put him back together again, but he can’t. He sets a steady pace, something hard and just fast enough to make Jason moan. The rocking of their bodies has Jason’s cock rubbing between the two of them, making it leak precum and fire warm Kyle’s belly.

“So good, so fucking good. Perfect, I swear you’re perfect Jason.” It’s all Kyle can say. Praise for the wonderful man underneath him, enough to bring Jason to tears again. “I’m going to tell you how good you are all the time, every fucking day, Jay. Say it until you believe me, and then some more. Fuck! So good Jason. Beautiful, wonderful, haven’t been able to get you out of my head for  _ months _ .”

Jason is sobbing his name, shuddering underneath him. Kyle picks up the pace, chasing after his orgasm. He knew before they even started that he wouldn’t last long. He grabs Jason’s cock and starts jerking it, determined to get him there before himself.

“Good, wonderful,  _ amazing _ man. You’ve been perfect for me Jason, so good. I need you to be good one more time and  _ cum for me. _ ” Jason cums with a shout, spilling himself over Kyle’s hand and both of their stomachs. Kyle lasts only a few more thrusts before his own orgasm takes him, making him shudder as he fills the condom.

He collapses on top of Jason, whispering praise into his skin as he kisses his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose, and finally his lips. His cock slips out of Jason as it softens, and he reluctantly gets up and removes the condom, typing it off.

Kyle presses a kiss to Jason’s forehead “I’ll be right back,” and walks into the bathroom. He puts the condom in the trash, and wets a washcloth to quickly wipe down. He wets another one, and takes it back to his sleeping area.

He sits on the bed and draws Jason up into a sitting position. He wipes the tears from his face first, pressing a kiss under each eye after he’s done. Then he cleans up his stomach before tossing the cloth to the side. He runs his hand down Jason’s arm and laces their fingers together.

“You good?”

Jason looks suddenly shy, and Kyle can see him closing back up “Yeah, I’m fine. I can leave, if you want? I probably should.”

“No, no, stay. Lay with me for a while.” He guides Jason back down to the bed and curls into his side. Jason offers him no resistance, but rather opens his arms for Kyle to snuggle in closer and rest his hand on Jason’s chest. Kyle idly traces the tattoos under his fingertips, quietly marveling at how the pigments that were on his hands have stained Jason’s skin. Jason runs his own fingers through Kyle’s hair, and he lets himself doze.

He doesn’t know how long he naps for, but when he comes to Jason is humming some tune he vaguely knows. He looks up, the movement drawing Jason’s attention. He’s looking at him with that fondness that he saw earlier. Kyle smiles at him.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself, Sleeping Beauty.” Kyle sits up, stretches and looks out the window, noting that the sun sits low in the sky.

“How long was I out for?” Jason rolls his shoulders as he sits up as well, and Kyle tracks the ripple of his muscles. He hums.

“Not too long. I do have to go soon, though.”

“Oh right, that work thing. You ever going to tell me what that is?” Jason blushes from his ears down to his chest and rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s so stupid, you’re going to think I made it up.” 

Kyle grins, “Oh no, now you have to tell me. I’ll die of curiosity if I don’t know.”

“I’m serious, you’re not going to believe me.”

“I will, I promise. Lantern’s honor.” Kyle wiggles the fingers on his right hand, flashing his ring for emphasis.

“I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“It is so, don’t dodge the question.” Kyle pokes him in the stomach, startling a laugh out of Jason. Kyle arches a brow, the threat to use his newfound knowledge clear. Jason groans in annoyance, trying to hide his smile.

“Fine. It was for the windows.” 

Kyle laughs, “What?”

“The windows! Some assholes I tracked from Gotham were having a meeting in the next building over, and the only place I could get a clear line of sight was from the windows of the art studio.” 

“Oh my God.” Jason’s blush deepens.

“And it woulda been fine, but these shitheads just had to have their meeting during the day, and the only way I could get in during the day was as an art model.” 

Kyle folds over in laughter. “Oh my God,” He repeats “Jason, Beautiful, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Jason starts laughing too.

“It’s so fucking stupid. I had to bribe the model that was supposed to come in to get his spot. Fucker drove a hard bargain at that. And then  _ you’re _ there and I have to keep myself together.”

“Oh?” He’s dying to know just how deep he got under Jason’s skin.

“Don’t ‘Oh’ me, you knew exactly what you were doing, making eyes at me and doing your cute absent-minded artist thing.”

“My ‘cute absent-minded artist’ thing, huh? What’s that?”

Jason waves his hand, gesturing to all of Kyle. “It’s your whole Thing. You get real fucking intense when you work. Feels like you’re staring into my soul. Then you come out of it like you have no idea where you are or how you got there,” Jason rubs the back of his neck “It’s nice. Cute, hot, whatever.”

“Yeah?” Kyle climbs into Jason’s lap, draping his arms around his neck. Jason places his hands on Kyle’s hips, rubbing circles into them with his thumbs.

“Yeah,” the word is a sigh out of Jason’s mouth as Kyle begins sucking on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Kyle, I’ve got to go. I’ve gotta shower, get ready for tonight.”

“You can shower here. We can share, save water.” Kyle ghosts his lips over Jason’s shoulders. Jason leans in to mouth at Kyle’s neck.

“Mmm, I suppose we can do that. Get some take out too? I’ll go bust some heads, come back and take care of  _ you? _ ” Kyle bites into the meat of Jason’s shoulder, making him groan. 

“Yes to take out, but what if I come with you? Green Lantern and Red Hood, out on the town? I can take you flying.” 

Jason squeezes his hips, giving him a slow, sexy smile that lights up his eyes “Sounds like a plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked it! Please let me know what you think in the comments down below.   
> If you want to chat or whatever, feel free to find me at my tumblr: [rainbowfoxes](https://rainbowfoxes.tumblr.com/)


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